More
by highflyer101
Summary: AU. Peeta and Katniss were never reaped, but that doesn't make him any less in love with her. My take on what would happen between them without that fateful Reaping day. Trust me, it's better than it sounds.
1. Chapter 1

Homework sucks, right? Yeah. It's the same reason why I'm not playing soccer with my friends, but trudging through the school halls looking for a math worksheet. My other option was to go home and face the consequences, and I just wasn't in the mood to see (or get hit by) Mom.

I nudge the math classroom door open, wary of it being locked. Eerily, it floats open, inviting me in. Sighing, I crouch next to the teachers desk and stick my hand underneath it. It's the only place it could've been. My hand struggles to go further, but my shoulder protests; it's size it too much for the puny desk. And that's when I hear it.

The soft _plink, plink _of the highest notes on a piano. And then a voice, a girl's voice, spreading over the school. I rise slowly; only one girl can sing like that. One girl who I've been madly in love with for most of my life. Sure, we haven't really spoken, but she's gorgeous, and talented, and strong, and independent, and fierce, and caring, and loyal, and so many other things. Katniss Everdeen is standing in the music room, singing.

I haven't heard her sing solo since kindergarten, and we're thirteen now, so with a voice like that, it's impressive. I know that before her dad died, she'd been in the chorus, but since then? She spends all of her time hunting with-my face twists into the expression you get from drinking sour milk-Gale Hawthorne. He's two years older than Katniss and I, and spends all his time with her. But where is he now? I know we're alone in the school; I didn't hear anyone and I've been in here a while. _Peeta, _I tell myself. _Are you ready to finally talk to Katniss? Not just throw bread at her, but really talk to her? _Hell yes. Hell yes I am.

After much deliberation, I decide that the best way to approach this is a casual run-in. I'll be looking for my homework, just in the music room. I had music last; I thought my worksheet might have slipped out of my bag.

I work my way into the music room, than act surprised. "Oh! I'm sorry, I, uh, didn't know anyone was in here. You're Katniss, right?" Recognition flashes through her eyes, and I know she's thinking about me, and the bread, and my mom. I almost expect her to say something regarding that night, but instead she nods.

"Yeah. And you're the baker. P- Pe- I'm sorry, I don't know your name..." Color steadily rises in my cheeks, but I cool them. _There's a lot of people in this school. She doesn't have to memorize everyone's names. And talking is good, right? _

"Peeta. We have math together; I was just looking for my worksheet." I run my eyes over the piano, and how she's perched on the bench. My eyes may wander from the black, wooden legs of the instrument to hers a few times, but Jesus, I'm thirteen! I'm hormonal and stuff. "Were you singing?" Oh, God. I blew it. I wasn't supposed to _hear _her. Think, idiot, think!

"No, no, I was just listening... to a cd. My sister really wants a cd player... and I was..." I raise my eyebrows at her as she fabricates an allibi. "Testing them. You know, the, uh, sound... To see if it was worth saving for one." She tries to shrug nonchalantly, and I force down a chuckle.

"So, what cd are you listening too?"

"Does it really matter?" She spins around from her school bag, where she was stationed. "Look, I don't know if you want anything for... for the bread, but even now I can't afford to give anything to you..." _I want you, _I think to myself.

"Of course not, never. That was a favor, just a favor. I don't need anything. I'd just like to know what cd you were listening to. That's all." She rolls her eyes.

"Fine. Alright, here's the cd." She jabs the eject button with her finger, and throws up the cd. It's a cello cd. I nod unbelievingly, and let out a bark of laughter, surprising myself. She shakes her head, and makes this face like _damn it! _and it's all I can do not to kiss her.

"Hey, if you were singing... I already know you can sing. You're really good. You should do it more often..." My voice fades out as her glare intensifies.

"See, that's the problem with townies. They seem to think that everyone just has time to do all those things they want to do, and all those things that will entertain everyone else. But I have a sister, and a mother to take care of, and unlike you, I can't do that by drawing flowers on over-priced cakes!" I stare at her, a bit of hurt flashing in my eyes. I see regret in her posture as her shoulders slump, and she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. I decide that I have to be the one to break the silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd take it like that. I just meant that you're really talented, and you're voice is amazing." I turn to leave, my mission a failure, but I hear something.

"Peeta!" I turn around hopefully. "Um, I already give my family food, and I don't need a degree to tell me that. You can have my worksheet, if you want. I won't have time to actually do it, anyways." She trots over to me and places the paper in my hand. Our skin brushes for an instant, and the room temperature goes up like, 100 degrees. "You're talented too, you know. My sister loves your cakes." I know that that's the only apology I'm going to get, because she really believes those things about the town, but my heart is still jumping, and fireworks still explode in my belly.

"Catnip, you ready to go?" We both spin around, and see Gale, standing there in the door way. Damn, that guy is creepy quiet. And fast. Plus, Catnip? Really? My mind molds the affectionate nickname into a disgusting, degrading insult. But it actually is a cute name for her, I think, as she blushes.

"Yeah, let me grab my stuff." She nods to me, and strides to her backpack. Swinging it across her body she swerves around Gale, who just stares at me, something akin to jealousy in his eyes. After about thirty seconds that feel like a lifetime, he tip-toes away, still silent.

I sigh, and go to follow them out of the school, when I see a piece of paper flipping under the leg of a seat. Curiously, I clutch it. My math homework. I have two now. Funny how Katniss always gives me more.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the positive feedback! I really like the idea of this story, and it seems like it went over well, so I decided to continue it into a 'what if the Hunger Games never happened' story. It means a lot, so thank-you for all the reviews! And enjoy!**

To put it lightly, I am not a morning person. I'm the kind of guy who mumbles something about getting no sleep, spills orange juice all over the counter during breakfast, and gets to school late. But today, wow. Energy pulses through me as I gulp down a pulpy cup of orange juice. Perfectly poured orange juice, I might add. My hands shake as I gather my homework-her homework! hers!-and file it away into my bag.

It might seem kind of stupid: getting all jumpy and excited because Katniss handed me a piece of paper that she didn't need. But I know this is going somewhere! Really! It sounds creepy and cliche, but even if we're not best friends, I know her! She doesn't just do things like that for anyone! I straighten my shoulders and stare at my reflection in a silver spoon.

"Admiring yourself because no one else will?" Okay, temporary high over. My older brother, Julius, strides in. Like always, the day must start with an insult.

"No, I…" I try to say something cool and dignified, but even I, the one who's supposed to be so good with words, can't muster up a good comeback. Julius snorts. "Just, shut up, okay? Mom will be down soon." It's the go-to excuse for my brothers and I: Mom. She's terrifying when she gets mad. And pretty terrifying when she's not mad, too. Everyone in this house, even Dad, has felt the wrath of her fist. It used to hurt to look at the other kids hugging their moms as they were picked up from school, but that mentality kind of fades when you've grown up with the witch. Besides, everyone knows what it's like to be hit. Corporal punishment is the professors' favorite method. My stomach sloshes a bit as I think that Katniss will probably get hit today for 'forgetting' her homework, but I steel myself. She goes through hard times everyday. I just don't have to _watch _them. Gale gets to. He gets to help her, too. Damn Gale!Before my thoughts wander to the point where I'm scared of my own obsession, I stroll out of the house, whistling a tune. My dad used to sing it to me when I was young, and upset about my maternal… situation.

It's a quick walk to school, especially when you're feeling that butterflies feeling where you want something to happen, but you don't because it could go wrong so, so easily. So I'm not shocked when I wake out of my thoughts to the hollering of my friends in the concrete courtyard. I sigh, and half-heartedly trudge over. I love my friends like they were family, but then year between twelve and thirteen has changed them. They're no longer interesting, insightful people, they're screaming hooligans with an insatiable thirst for popularity.

"Hey, Peeta, did you find your homework last night?" Lisa, a materialistic girl with a thing for me, twirls over, fanning out her knee-length skirt. I cringe as she clutches the upper part of my arm. She's alright, and nice enough, but she's just so… not… Katniss.

"Yeah, thanks," I say curtly. She falters in her dancing and pouts at me. I ignore it. Maurice is boring holes into my shirt, doing this nodding motion to Lisa, then me. I roll my eyes. Is all he can think about the best way to lose your v-card? "Sorry guys, I don't want to be late to class. So I, uh, gotta go." The entire group starts the wolfish howling again, and I just walk away with a wave. Math is the only thing on my mind; I have it first, and I can't wait. My pace borders on sprinting as I head for the classroom. Is she there? What if she's sick? What if-? Nope, she's there. Her face looks cold, and indifferent to the punishment that we both know looms before her. She makes no show of scouring her bag to find the worksheet; just sits at her desk and dumps her head on her hand. A loose piece of hair fidgets into her face and she pulls out the entire braid, shaking out her hair. My heart almost stops. Well, along with every guy's in the rooms. I can see them staring. She re-braids it, oblivious to the gaggle of fans surrounding her.

"Mr. Mellark, in your seat please." Ms. Frankelshire flops a stack of papers on her desk, and gestures to my waiting desk. How much time has passed? The class giggles at me as I strut to my seat. _Just wait, for it, Peeta,_ I tell myself. The class passes fairly uneventfully; everyone winces as Katniss is whacked on the arm, but she doesn't even flinch. I'm in awe of her, again. Everyone gets new worksheets to complete tonight, and we end by doing the first one together, in case we aren't smart enough to get it on our own. The bell rings hesitantly, and I spring up. Katniss is standing, too, but she just flips closed her binder, and slides the homework into a folder. Satisfied, she gathers her books and strides to the door. This is my last chance. Maybe I should wait. See if she talks to me, or something. It wasn't that significant, just...

"Hey Katniss! I wanted to thank you again for last night. It was really nice of you to do that for me, when you could have done it for someone else, or done the homework yourself, or-"

"Whatever. I got you hit once, and I saved you from being hit once. We're even." I stare at her, and maintain my position blocking the door. Her eyebrows quirk up.

"No, you shouldn't have given me that for that… I mean, I'd do it for anyone. It wasn't just specifically you… But I am glad I did it for you…" Oh God, I'm losing it.

"Is this going somewhere?," she snaps. "'Cause I'd kind of like to get to class on time, and avoid being hit again." I wince and silently move aside. Every fiber in my body screams to walk away, but of course, I follow her.

"That didn't hurt too much, did it? You could get ice at the nurse, I bet. Everyone hates seeing people get hit. It's just disgusting, like, savage." She rolls her eyes at my blabber, and I get to the point. Don't get the impression that I knew what 'the point' was, but my subconscious certainly did. "This is kind of personal, but… AreyoudatingGaleHawthorne?" It comes out rushed, and I hope that she didn't catch that, so I don't have to explain my crush on her, but I have no such luck.

"I don't date." This subdues a part of me that wanted her away from other guys, but breaks a part of me too. She won't date me. "If the person I actually learn to care about doesn't get put into that arena, our children certainly will." Children? Dating isn't children. And, why not just be happy now? With whatever twisted delights you could scrape up? "Gale's just my friend… My best friend." She adds a decisive nod, and I fall apart. Best friend isn't date, but it's a hell of a lot closer than stalker-who-steals-my-homework.

"That's cool. Yeah, I was just wondering because my friend is like, madly in love with you." She looks at me like I just told her I was a pedophile in disguise. Not cool. Totally not how that was supposed to sound. For the second time today, I'm lost for words. She flips her braid onto her other shoulder and tries to speed up her pace, leaving me in the dust. My feet work twice as hard as I lumber behind her.

"It's just that, well, he saw you one time, and I told him I talked to you, and now he wants me to talk to you-"

"Peeta, can you just leave? I don't date, that's that. Now all I want to do is get to class without being interrogated." Her stormy eyes dare me to protest, and I fall behind dejectedly. She has every right to creeped out by me, and it nettles me that I let her slip away so easily. My thoughts are my only companion as I walk.

"Peeta! What were you doing talking to Everdeen?" I look up at Oliver, my best friend, and shrug. "I mean, she's crazy hot and all, but she's also like a hermit! And that Hawthorne is madly in love with her. If you haven't noticed, he can use a knife with scary good aim." I roll my eyes.

"I was talking to her, Oliver. Not marrying her. Besides, do you even know what a hermit is?" His face clouds over in bewilderment.

"Someone who just doesn't talk?"

"No! Just, let's go to history. You need to learn something."

"No, look, I'm serious! What's a hermit?"

It seems foreign that I was excited I had math first. Because now that it sucked, I just want to go back in time and _not _have math. It's just like your birthday: you wait all year long for a stale cake, and once it's over, you just want to redo with bigger and better presents. Mom would kill me for saying that; I know. But, she can't because she's already killing me for burning the bread! Happy day. Note the sarcasm.

"Peeta, are you completely incapable of baking? You may frost nice designs, but who do you think is going to _bake _the cakes when this place is yours?" _Uhh, Julius. _I stay silent. "Exactly! No one! You complete idiot; you goddamn son of a-" She must understand why I'm giggling at this attempted insult, and stops short.

"You think I'm real funny, do you? All worked up, and making foolish comments. Well, why do you think that is? Pay attention, to me, you pig!" I wince just in time for the bread pan to come smashing on my forehead. Pain shoots through me, but I bit me tongue to stop the cry. I learned a long time ago that that makes her even more erratic. "You know why I'm like this? Because your bastard of a father provided me with three, lazy, soft, stupid… parakeets!" I cover a snort with my fist. "You expect to live here and do nothing, nothing at all? You expect I'll just deal with your slacking off? Well, does this feel like toleration?" The pan flies down on my jaw, and I scramble to the floor. I feel a hard kick in my side. "Get up, moron. Go to your room. And if you don't have your bed made in five minutes…" She raises her voice as she trails off, and flashes the pan. I scamper to the stairs, and pull myself up. Hastily, I throw open my door.

"Julius!," I yell through my teeth. He's lounging serenely on his bed, calmly assessing my various bruises. "We need to work! Now, now!" He sighs, and languidly flings a leg over one side of the bed. I yank the covers from under him, and thrust them in his face as he sprawls on the floor. My hands nimbly put together the bed, flattening out the sheet just enough to make the mustard-colored blanket lay evenly on top. I hear footsteps banging up the stairs, and fling my pillow by the headboard just in time.

"Little brothers!" I'm shocked by the voice I hear; it's not Mom. It's Francis! He moved out two years ago, as he grew old enough to support himself. Intelligently, he married the daughter of the mayor, a wealthy girl with no need for a working husband. He claims he loves her fully, but I heard the shouting matches he'd have with Mom about her. She just wanted glory to come to our family. Plus, anyone can see the dullness in his eyes as she rambles about her new dress. It isn't love, it's just… toleration. Like he's simply hearing a necessary lecture on math, not absorbing the love of his life's happiness.

"What are you doing here?," my voice portrays my total shock before I remember. The reaping's tomorrow; he's here for 'moral support.' His cheery demeanor is a mere illusion, meant to draw away from the looming fear of the morning. Is that why Katniss was so prickly this morning? My friends and I hardly stand a chance of being chosen, but her… She must need the tesserae for her family, even with the hunting. I hate to think of who else she'd be worried about, but it's only logical that Gale would need more for his little herd of a family. How many are there of them? Five, ten? I wouldn't be surprised. The sensitive part of me reprimands my morose pondering, but I banish it. The Reaping is just a time of hate, anyways. Capitol hates us the most; we hate the Capitol the most. Hate, hate, hate.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi! Well, although I love Peeta, I'm also really into the relationship Gale and Katniss have, because I think the whole hunting thing is awesome. So, I need your advice. Would you like to see a Gale POV introduced, or should I save that for some other story? And, also, on a random note, what do you think of Jennifer Lawrence playing Katniss? I was shocked when I heard, because she looks so… not Katniss, but I guess Suzanne Collins knows best, and she seems really enthusiastic. I'll judge when I see the trailer! Let's hope we have some good makeup artists here! Either way, she's certainly an amazing actress, and I have a feeling she can carry the role! BTW, I don't own Hunger Games. If that wasn't completely obvious.**

I really should love the Reaping. Don't get me wrong; it's awful and immoral on hundreds of levels! But, the luxury of sleeping in sometimes feels priceless. Besides, the chances I'll get pulled are slim to none. My eyes pry themselves open, and a lazy feeling drowns me. The aroma of fresh bread clouds my nostrils; the spared families will have a feast tonight. If Mom had her way, I'd be down there cleaning the pots, pouring sloppy mixture into pans, but Dad insisted that we relax today. Part of me relishes the feeling of having _nothing _to do, but the other part worries. Does that mean he thinks one of us will be chosen? Why else would we get special treatment? My hearts shrinks at even the thought of the arena.

Reluctantly, I surrender to reality and pull myself out of bed. I can tell that Mom's been in here already as I take in the crisply ironed, yet worn-out costume. The thin, green and white stripes march down the sky blue base of my shirt. I take in my room, trying to push away the thought that this could be the last time I take it in. My eye across the floor and meets Julius' head, hanging sloppily off the bed. Would I ever volunteer for him? The question troubles me. I love both of my brothers, but the idea of leaving all of my life… I wouldn't be able to do it. I'd tell them that I couldn't act fast enough, or maybe even ignore the subject unless it's broached. Shaking my head, I trip down the stairs.

Frederick leans over the morning paper, staring at the headline on the morning paper. WINNERS FOR DISTRICT 12? Likely. We haven't won since that Haymitch guy, and a lot of good he does our contestants! The guy's a notorious alcoholic who hasn't had to survive on his own in years! Technically, it's our own fault that no one wins, but it's always irked me how little of a chance anyone gives us. Maybe with better training, we could manage to get to at least the top ten.

"All ready for today, I see?" Fred stuffs a roll in his face, tearing more than he can chew off. I smile queasily, and nod.

"Looks like it's nice out today. Maybe that girl will go hunting, and we can get a good squirrel for tonight." I know who he's talking about, obviously. My stomach clenches more than usual; even if she does come, it will be incredibly awkward talking to her. I pray that she's the type who keeps business separate from pleasure. Then again, our conversations probably haven't been that pleasurable to her. I nod again.

"She always gets it in the eye," I burst out. "It must be hard to do that. That's how you can tell who shot it, though. Haw-That guy she's always with can't shoot for his life," I exaggerate. To be honest, Gale has a good shot too. Better than mine would be, anyways. Fred's mouth quirks up, and he raises his eyebrows at me.

"Someone's paying a little more attention than necessary. Does Peeta have a cruuuu-sh? And on a Seam girl, no less!" Color seeps into through my skin, and I concentrate on the floor once again.

"I've just noticed, that's all. When Dad's busy baking, I handle the trades," I blabber. "And I have to get the squirrels ready for Mom to cook, so. Besides, she probably has something with that guy," I admit. Frederick drops the subject, and tears into another roll.

"Slow down, son!" My father's deep voice booms through the kitchen. "It's good you're both up. Where's Julius?" He turns towards me, and I glance at the time. 11:10! We slept late this year.

"I'll go get him," I groan, saving my father the command. I stare up the steps, and resort to the easiest option. "JULIUS! JUUUULIUS GET UP!" I drag my feet back to the kitchen, and slab some butter on cold bread. "He should be coming." I don't bother asking where Mom is. It's kind of a tradition for her to spend the whole morning sobbing in her room (like she really cares), and then come down to herd us into the ropes.

"Hmm. Yes, exemplary job fetching him," Dad replies sarcastically. "Go get the front counter, please. Tonight, the Capitol will be jealous of our meal!" I trot through a pair of swinging doors to the ugly, blue tiled bakery portino of the house. The pink counter sits lonely in the middle of the store, and I plop down in the seat that stands behind it. Bored, I swivel back and forth across the floor. A bell screeches as the door pushes open, and I jump up. Just Maurice.

"Hey, Peeta." I nod in return. "How much does a cake cost? 'Cause it's my little sister's first reaping, and I kind of want to surprise her. She's freaking out, and being all emotional. She hugged her bed goodbye this morning. Crazy stuff." My heart softens as his eyes fill with worry.

"Um, well. How much do you have?" I eye our biggest cake, the one with a rainbow expertly sculpted on. He shrugs, and throws five dollars on the counter. The cake costs ten.

"Our best one is four dollars!," I blurt. "Want it?" I nudge the rainbow cake forward. Shit. What am I going to tell my parents? Oh, uh, hey, that's weird. Six dollars just went missing!

Maurice's face lights up, but darkens with a blush. No one wants to be a charity case. I've never gotten that, though. If someone's willing to give it to you, why not take it? "Thanks, Peeta," he says gruffly, before grabbing the cake. I wish him luck as he leaves. I haven't liked Maurice much since fifth grade, but I still don't want him reaped. He has a good heart, and wouldn't last a second in the arena. Darkly, I laugh at his prospects of survival. Memories of the times we were friends flash through my mind. But it all goes blank when I see them.

I wasn't actually planning on Katniss to show up. Sure, I knew it would happen, but it was kind of a 'why bother worrying about it' thing. And now she's striding towards the store with a sack at her side. Hawthorne flanks her, and they seem to be laughing at some inside joke. He flicks a berry into the air, and she dodges to catch it. I catch her mouthing some words as she smacks her lips. Gale bounds up the steps to our door, and hands the door to her, setting off the alarm once again. _Hold the door for a girl, _I comment to myself. But, I guess Katniss doesn't like being seen as that type of girl. All proper, and courteous.

"Good morning, Peeta." I'm shocked at the reluctant smile on Katniss' face. But by the grin Gale's sporting, I can tell that it's simply a ploy to get me and my father in a good mood. "Are you… trading for your father today?" She scans the back of the store for movement.

"Um." What do you say to a girl who just utterly rejected you, and is now striding in with her 'best friend', looking for food? "Actually, I think he's going to want to trade for like… meat, and stuff. I'm not that good a judge." Her smile develops into a ridiculing smirk, clearly expressing her disdain for my scared mien. "Dad!," I holler. "Come here!" My dad rushes out of the back room, and smiles broadly at the two hunters. It's an outlandish idea that they're criminals.

"What have we got today?," he inquires as he shrugs off his apron. "Squirrel, rabbit? What's in the bag?" His happy attitude forces a blush onto my face. Why does he have to act like they're two year olds? God, I love him more than anything, but he drives me insane.

"Both. Today was a good day for hunting. If you could choose, though..." Katniss trails off and twirls her braid around her finger.

"Hmm. You know what, I have made up my mind already! I'll take one or two squirrels, and you two can take half a loaf of bread each. How's that sound?" Katniss grins naturally and Hawthorne digs in the bag. He yanks out two squirrels by their tails, both nicked neatly in the eye. They're bare of fur, and I assume that that's been sold to the tanner, or kept for winter.

"Thank-you," he supplies, as Dad hands them each half of a loaf. I nod at each of them and squeak out,

"Good luck!" to Katniss. She nods in return, but ignores my well-wishings. She flashes me a toothless smile, and follows Hawthorne out.

The Reaping passes as it always does. Effie Trinket tries to create drama that will get her famous, Haymitch tries to grope her, and two kids with very little relation to me are sent off to die. I don't envy them, nor do I look forward to the premiere of the games. The girl I've only seen around, but the boy I played baseball with last year. I consider saying goodbye, but leave the privilege to his sobbing family. My mind cools down as I settle down to a dinner of… You guessed it, squirrel! It's weird to think that this is really _her _squirrel. I just traded for it. It's kind of comforting, though. We're all connected, whether we know it or not.

**A/N: What did you think? I feel kind of 'meh' about this chapter, so review and let me know what YOU thought! Bye!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey! Here's the next chapter. Thank-you for all of the feedback! I'm still torn on the Gale chapters though, so let me know if you feel strongly about it. Yes… Or no. I still don't own this genius series. **

Naked! The District 12 tribute are… naked! They just have coal dust on their… parts. It's ridiculous. You could do so much more with coal! And, it's not like there's much to show of a District 12 tribute. So keep on the clothes. Even my teacher tsks as the tributes ride out in their carriage. During the Hunger Games, we have a special class to access the odds of one tribute, and we all take this awful class on probability first thing in the morning to watch what's happened so far.

Mr. Corningstone rubs his chin pensively, and decides on a lesson plan.

"Now that you can see all of our tributes… Assets… What do you think would be a suitable strategy and why? Or, do you think they should accept death immediately?" Oliver snorts. Of course they're going to die. Not a single person raises their hand. Corningstone paces the front row.

"Peeta!" I jerk up. "What do _you _think they should do?" God, I don't know. Why pick me? Seriously? When there are tons of hardened Seam kids in this class? And now everyone's staring at me, waiting for my answer.

"Well…" _Wrestling, Peeta. What's that taught you? _I look up into Katniss' curious gray eyes. Damn it! Just lost my train of thought. "Well, the guy… I knew-I know," I stop myself from using past tense. "Him. And he's pretty strong so he should try to steer clear of everyone, but his best chance at survival, if he's caught, is wrestling, so hand to hand combat. Maybe he should find a cave or something to hide in; camouflage. If there is a cave, I mean. And the girl… I've never spoken to her, but she's tiny. She should just try and _hide. _From the Careers, and stuff." Even Katniss looks surprised at my logical answer. She flips her head back to the front and fidgets in her seat. You can see the wheels in her head turning as she assesses the other tributes. Does she know them well? What can she tell?

Mr. Corningstone points to her lazily. She quirks her mouth into a tiny 's.'

"Well, if you look at the other tributes, the Careers are all a lot bigger than even the boy. It's his best chance to get close to someone, but also have a weapon as back up, in case he's not as strong as he thinks he is. Probably a sword would be best, since you can still keep a fairly good distance from your opponent. And as for the girl… I've seen her in my Gym class. She should probably pay attention to… I don't know, traps. She's an obvious first kill, so she needs to hide, and insure that no one will find her. It could even be feasible to make an obvious trail, but hide all the traps in it. That could take a lot of time though; more than she has. That's all I'd say." Everyone gapes at her easy calculation of battle. Even if my mother hates the Seam, this girl could certainly win the Games. Corningstone nods and stations himself in front of her desks.

"No weapons for the girl?"

"If any, a bow and arrow," she replies easily. "She can't get too close to anyone; they'd crush her between their forefinger and thumb. But I really would concentrate on the snares if I were her."

"What if there's no trees, or bush to hide in? What then?"

"Peeta," my heart explodes. She said my name! "Peeta suggested camouflage. That could still be her best bet. And the traps would have to covered in snow or dirt, too. Maybe she could rig them to water. They need water, don't they?"

"If you're ever Reaped, my bets are on you, Everdeen." Ugh. Way to turn that complement around. No one wants to be Reaped! That's an awful thing. Especially not Katniss. She has that little sister, and apparently her mother's like, insane. Katniss' mouth is a tight line as she stares stonily at Mr. Corningstone.

"Glad to hear it, sir." She can be _cold. _I'd be terrified if she were mad at me! But has she ever really been furious at someone? She seems so composed! Maybe… Maybe Gale? My heart flutters a bit as I imagine her slapping him. Yeah, that could work.

"Alright, now. If the girl does need to wrestle, there's a specific way she must go about it. Peeta, Everdeen." Why does he use her last name, and my first? Kind of creepy. "Get up, your my example students for a small girl against a strong boy." Wait, what? No! I don't want to be forced into like… hugging Katniss. Her face goes blank and she looks around the room.

"Mr. Corningstone, with all due respect, there's no room to wrestle. Besides, Peeta and I aren't even close to the tributes' sizes. We'd be misrepresenting the situation." She sounds sure of herself, and I nod desperately.

"The class might be confused on what to expect. You see, us wrestling gives the impression that it would be a more equal match, when in reality it would be the opposite," I add.

"You two are the closest we have to the sizes, and you obviously know a good deal about strategizing. Now, up!" I trudge to the front of the room, and Katniss robotically follows, her eyes narrowed. Corningstone rearranges us into opposing positions, and my mind clicks into wrestling. I can't wrestle a girl, though. Even for school. That's immoral. "Go! Wrestle, kids!"

We awkwardly lock hands, and I easily twist hers down. She doesn't look hurt; just incensed. I throw a light punch, and she dances out of the way. That's the only way I can describe it. The class looks at each other like, _what? _She timidly kicks out, and hits me in the shin.

"Wrestle, not box! Wrestle!," Mr. Corningstone eggs us on. He pushes us towards each other, but we both resist.

"I'm _trying _to demonstrate what would happen if the girl got attacked. She wouldn't tackle another boy!" Katniss pleads. Indignantly, she whips towards the teacher. He sighs and waves us to our seats.

"Are there any student who are willing to wrestle? Really, Wrestle?" My heart pounds from how close I was to touching her. She focuses on her binder, and crosses her arms. Hah. She looks kind of adorable.

A wad of paper whacks my head. Oliver gestures to it indiscreetly. How he doesn't get caught, I'll never know. I open it. _I'd totally take the opportunity to grab Everdeen. ;). _I look at him, and roll my eyes. I scribble back, _Yes, but I'm not a disrespectful idiot. Besides, I don't want to get on HER bad side. _

**A/N: So that was a quick chapter, but I hope you like it! I kind of enjoyed the idea of Katniss and Peeta all most being forced to fight. Review! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is the recently edited version of this chapter since it was so OOC before. Hopefully this is a little better! :)**

I really don't like that Mr. Corningstone. Partly because the Capitol sucks, partly because the wrestling sucked. Apparently, Katniss thinks so, too.

After class, her face is a furious red and she sucks her teeth in frustration. She clutches her binder to her chest, and thrusts up her head as she walks past Mr. Corningstones desk. The gesture is so childish, and so unlike her, that I have to hold in a snort. My mouth moves itself as she passes me.

"I'm sorry I had to fight you." She turns around, and looks at me with an expression of shock and disgust.

"Peeta, I thought I'd told you. I'm not interested." She whips back around and heads for her next class determinedly, but I grab her shoulder. She throws my hand off angrily and pouts at me. "_What?"_

"I just… wanted to know if you were hurt."

"You didn't even touch me." I think I see a trace of a smirk on her face, but I could be imagining it. It's condescending, but it's progress.

"My aura is just so strong that I knock people out by looking at them." Oh, God. Did I really just say that? The smile thing gave me confidence, but it shouldn't have made me say _that. _But to my surprise, she smiles bashfully.

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried. I'm made of stone. You're made of dough." She lightly socks me in the stomach, and nods to me before turning around. Hope having been restored, I follow after her. My mind races as we walk in silence. She casts me a side-long glance, and furrows her brow a little, but I'm not rebuked.

"I was wondering… Katniss… Are you busy after school today?" Brave of me, but I'm happy with myself. There's silence for a minute as she blushes and slowly raises her head.

"I really have to go to class, Peeta." No! The dark screen is up again. She directs her gaze to the floor, and tries to ignore me.

"God, let yourself have fun for once! Unless you're spending all your time hunting with Hawthorne." I'm shocked by my outburst. She definitely is. She stops, and moves to block my path.

"How dare you insult me like that? I would like to see you _try _to take care of a batshit-crazy mother and an oblivious little sister. Your condensed little brain might just pop at the exhaustion. Your father wasn't brave enough to go into the mines, or to _do something_, but mine was. And I will not let everything he held dear shrivel up and die, you… you bastard!" Her face turns redder, if possible, but mine just softens. I'm a bit surprised she didn't address the Gale comment. Could she _want _me to be jealous of Gale? I don't even allow myself to hope. No; I know what's going on.

"You really miss him, don't you?"

"No, I'm pooping rainbows that my father died in a mine explosion when I was 11," she replies sarcastically, and her glare intensifies.

"No, I mean that you don't want to be doing all of this by yourself. You think you still need him. Maybe you just _want _to need him."

"And why would that be the case?"

"Well…" If you hadn't noticed, my brain is strange. It's hard to explain my reasoning in a way that will keep me out of an insane asylum. "Well, maybe if you needed him, it would mean you had a good childhood. Like you were always taken care of," she opens her mouth to snap a retort, but I hold up my hand, "And you were always able to have enough food. You didn't learn to hunt or anything. You just had." Her eyes flash with pain, and she turns again. She says nothing when I walk next to her.

"You can live your life for real now, Katniss. He doesn't have to be what you do things for."

"It's not him. It is, but it's more Prim. All I've ever wanted was for her to be happy. She's so innocent. She doesn't belong here." Her eyes take on a wistful look, and I allow myself to smile at the sudden counseling session I've started.

"Want to ditch class and talk about it?"

"I'd like that." She doesn't even deposit her books in her locker as she pushes out the front doors. She leaves them to slam in my face, but I don't mind. _Yes, yes, yes, yes! _I try to appear indifferent as she leads me through alley after alley.

Hardly any light filters through the dark walls of building surrounding us as we walk. They're not tall enough to enclose us, but the paint is chipped enough to capture us, and the wood rotten enough to send shivers down our spines. She doesn't talk as we walk through, except to nod hello to a questioning woman. I think she works at the Hob, the local black-market. I examine the blackened ground as I pass. What if she sells poison? Who actually goes to the Hob? Not Katniss. _Well, duh, idiot. Where else do you sell illegal meat, _says a voice in my head. I tell it to shut up. When we've reached the run-down town at the end of the alley, I ask her who that woman was. She mutters something about grease. I tell her that's cool.

The conversation idly persists as we walk through the muddy streets of the Seam. I almost die when we walk towards the electric fence.

"We're not going to the woods… Right?," my creepily high voice squeaks. A flickering light passes over her face as she shakes her head no.

"I wouldn't go to the woods with you… You'd probably get us both killed by a bear, or something. I only go to the woods with Gale. He can take care of himself." And I can't? Jeez, it's like Hawthorne WANTS to thwart my plans. Well, he does. He's in love with Katniss. But plotting against me is a little extreme. I sigh to myself. If only I could take care of myself.

She takes another turn, and we're suddenly surrounded by lush, tall, green grass. My hands skim the tops of the stalks and feel the tickley texture of the yellowing strands.

"I was thinking of taking you to a different meadow… In the woods. My father took me there when I was younger. But, this way it will be easier for you to get home, and for Prim to find me." Home. Right.

"What time should I leave? So I know. I mean, what time do you hunt?" She bites her lip, and squirms under my stare.

"I don't want to hunt today. I have enough food to last my family until tomorrow. Gale will be okay. He's good at traps if he really wants to hunt. Besides, we never formally scheduled anything like meetings. We just met." She looks torn, like she's convincing herself. I nod stupidly, and pull out grass as she sinks into the mulch. "You don't know much about my father, do you?"

"Nothing except that my dad was jealous of him. He was in love with your mom." She raises her eyebrows, and hesitates, but continues.

"A lot of people considered him a rebel. Him, and Gale's dad. They wanted something different. He taught me the Hanging Tree when I was little, even. It didn't last for long. My mom found me making rope necklaces for me and Prim, and freaked out. Enforced the law that banned it." I haven't heard the song, probably because of the law Katniss referred to, but I get the gist. My stomach squirms with uncomfortableness, but I try to push her out of her silence.

"What's that about?"

"Oh, it's, um, weird." She smiles a sad smile, and then does something I wouldn't ask for in my wildest dreams. She begins to sing. Softly at first, but her voice grows over time.

_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Where they strung up a man they say murdered three._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Where the dead man called out for his love to flee._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Where I told you to run so we'd both be free._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

_Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree_

_Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be_

_If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

My face breaks into a strange smile at the sound of her voice, but melts into a frown as I absorb the lyrics. That's awful! She made rope necklaces as a child? Someone kind of screwed her over on the whole having a childhood thing.

"That's… haunting," I tell her, as I have no other words to describe it.

"Isn't it, though? My father loved that song. I'll never know why, but… He loved the honesty of it. In a way, I like it too. But not enough to keep singing it after he died. Little things like that were why people say he was killed." She puts emphasis on the 'killed' and I shudder. I guess everyone knew it was a blatant murder, but I'd never heard anyone say it out loud. "I know it sounds stupid, but he _was _killed. It wasn't a coincidence that the two biggest rebels happened to be the only two dead in an unexpected mine explosion." She speaks calmly, with a nostalgic look in her eyes. I can see events running in front of eyes, taking her out of the real world.

"The day he died, Prim and I went to this meadow. We were going to try and look for frogs. We didn't realize that to get frogs, there needed to be water. We could hear the explosion from here. My mother didn't even consider what we'd do when she ran for him." She looks at me almost guiltily. "I guess it sounds like she's some horrible witch, but she's not. She's just... lost. And yeah, it bothers me that she doesn't seem to try anymore, so I guess I'm kind of rude or whatever. But I think I have that right.

"Anyways, everyone played it off as a freak accident and I got that stupid medal, like it would make up for everything, and feed us all for a few years until I could get a job. You know how the rest goes. I starved half to death. Prim was better, but not by much. She got most of my food. You threw me bread. I started hunting with Gale. He helped me set up snares, and I helped him shoot. Everything just, I don't know, fell into place." I can kind of tell that she thinks everything's _out _of place now, because I came and screwed everything up, but I don't say anything. Finally, she stands up.

"I should go."

"Right," I say, and there's this really awkward moment where I try to think of something nice to tell her, but I just can't. She starts walking towards the sidelines of the meadow, but I grab her on a whim. Her eyes widen like she knows what's about to happen and even though I should stop, I don't. Instead, I lean forward and I kiss her. It feels perfect and right to me, and for a glorious second I think that she thinks so too and is going to kiss me back. That is, until she plants a firm hand on my shoulder and shoves me away.

"You're a good person, Peeta," she admits. "But this isn't gonna happen." And then she runs.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm making a risky move here… Katniss free chapter. Yup. Not one word out of Katniss. All Peeta. All the time. **

Katniss hasn't spoken to me since the meadow. That was on Thursday, and it's Monday now. We never really spoke on weekends, so it may seem weird that I'm freaking out. But she didn't even trade with us at the bakery. That's major avoiding, right there.

That's what I'm thinking about as I walk out of detention (don't ask). It's past the end of the day, and I still haven't worked up the courage to strike up a conversation. She hasn't approached me either. My friends are kind of ignoring me because I'm acting so "crazy, man. Like, really weird." So I head to my locker alone, and sullenly twist in my combo. The school emptied out long ago, but I bide my time. My books are carefully arranged in class order on the shelf. My pictures are straightened. I'm a freak, but I need _something _to do. I don't hear the footsteps approaching me, but when I close my locker, I certainly see the person awkwardly standing behind my door. It's Gale Hawthorne.

His shoulders are hunched over, and he has subtle rings around his eyes. I can see the tension in his frame as his hands dig around in his pockets.

"Mellark."

"How-How are you? It's Gale, right? I, was, uh, actually, just going…" I try to turn around and casually walk out, but he spins me back with a firm hand. Wow. He is really strong. He's also like, 10 feet tall. I made an awful choice kissing Katniss.

"Cut the crap, Mellark. You know why I'm here."

"What? I-I don't… I haven't the slightest idea why you're here." Yeah, that will make you sound cool. SHow him how smart and nerdy you are, Peeta. Way to go. He must be terrified of beating you up now.

"I saw you in the meadow on Friday. You kissed her." I gulp, and nod. He was there?

"So?" I try to make myself look bigger than I am, but Gale just rolls his eyes. He's getting frustrated.

"So… You don't work with Katniss. I've known Katniss forever. You're from the town. She's… No." He sighs, and rubs his eyes. "Listen, you two aren't supposed to happen. We-me and Katniss-make sense. You… You'll destroy her," he sneers. He looks like he's about to cry as he glares at me. I have an abnormal desire to give him a hug, and push it away immediately. He's not a lost puppy. He's a psycho maniac who's very pissed that I kissed the love of his life. I absorb what he's saying. As much as I hate to admit it, he's right.

"How did you even know where we were?"

"God, I'm not an idiot. I don't like school, either. The meadow in the Seam is a famous place to hide. She probably just thought _I'd _be in the woods, and took you there."

"Did you hear everything we said?," I ask, thinking of her almost-love of Gale. He nods. "Well, then you know that you're much closer to having her then I am. She loves you. She just won't admit it." Damn it! My throat constricts, and my eyes threaten to overflow with tears. _Be cool, be cool._

"I know. But you screwed things up, Mellark. And I don't appreciate it." He shifts his weight and runs a hand through his messy hair. "I was this-" he inches his thumb and forefinger close together-"close to having her. She almost cracked. Now she's all awkward, and reserved."

"Does she know you were there?" He slumps.

"I told her on Saturday. She left, and hasn't come hunting since."

"If it helps, she's not talking to me, either." He explodes again.

"That doesn't help! She should be not talking to you because she _never _talked to you. Not not talking to you because she's… Torn! Just… Just stay away from her, okay?" Why did he have to ask? Now I feel obliged to, because obviously I'm going to tell him I will. It's that, or get killed. Completely crushed.

"I'll try. You really love her, don't you?" He maintains his fiery glare.

"That's none of your business," he tells me gruffly. "Katniss is furious." Okay. Why is he telling me this, again? "She's pissed because I kind of… Yelled at her. People talk here, Mellark. There's not much reason a guy from the town would be following a girl from the Seam in need of money," he informs me darkly. I'm outraged by the inference. God, no! I don't want… that. That's nasty!

"What! Ew, no! Just… no. God, what kind of douche do you think I am? Besides, Katniss hasn't even, like, actually talked to me, except when you were our only witness!" I gag to emphasize my disgust, and he sighs.

"Tell that to a town full of people with nothing to do but gossip," he says grimly. "I don't want her getting hurt. By anyone, not just you." Oh, yeah, that helps. It's not just me, it's my whole crew that pisses him off.

"Maybe you should just get your facts straight, Hawthorne. What did you think you'd do by yelling at her? Make her suddenly fall in love with you? Girls love to be told what to do," I sarcastically say. Bombs burst in his eyes.

"Will you shut up? I could literally break every bone in your body." Oh, yeah. "Leave her alone, before I make you." And on that happy note, he turns his back. His bag hangs sloppily off of his back, and I think about something he said. I didn't notice it at the moment, but did he say she was torn? Over me? I must be doing better than I thought. _He'll kill you, _a voice murmurs. But maybe, just maybe, she's worth it.

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, I just really wanted that interaction! I love the Gale and Peeta rivalry, for some reason. Review, and let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

I feel completely stupid as I lie under the 'electric' fence, camouflaged. It's ridiculous, really, but I just want to hear what Gale and Katniss talk about so bad! So I'm swallowing dirt to look like a shrub. I see parents pulling five years olds away from me like I'm some sort of pedophile. I'm not, of course, but it is weird to be collecting yourself in a pile of cow manure.

I must have been here half an hour when I finally see her tanned, scarred hands grasp the chain-link. For a second I think she actually thought I was a weed, but she suddenly drops down from the top of the fence with no apparent explanation. I cringe.

"Pe-Peeta?" She sounds completely weirded out, but who wouldn't be? _Oh hello, strange rich boy who basically harassed me for the past three weeks. Whatever may you be doing in a muddy hole by the place I always go? Coincidence, huh? _I sit up, defeated.

"Hey, Katniss," I breath. I reach out my hand, looking for some help getting up, but I receive none. Instead, I push myself up, and lean against the fence. Oh, yeah, it's not really electric. If you didn't get that. It's just a hoax. But, anyways, I'm leaning on the completely safe fence, talking to my stalkee. I think that's the correct terminology. She crinkles her nose at the stench of dirt. I brought a lot of the fancy fertilizer over from the town, thinking it would make me blend in. Yeah, no. It made me look like a whale in a herd of guppies.

"What are you doing here?" I struggle for a moment in silence, but decide to tell her the truth.

"I, um, wanted to talk to you. I heard… from… someone. I heard from someone that you weren't speaking to Gale, and I wanted to find out why. I also wanted to talk about… Friday." She grimaces, and sighs.

"I've told you a million times, Peeta. You. And me. Do not. Work. We're in a town far too small, and a world far too vicious, too even contemplate the possibility of any relationship."

"But you admit there's a possibility?," I blurt. She hisses.

"None! It's ridiculous, and you know it. I'm just your pet project. Get over it, and move on. I have a life to lead. One that doesn't involve random interruptions from a wistful rich kid." She turns away, and prepares to bound up the fence again. I frown, and try again.

"Pet projects don't last since kindergarten." I must look pretty helpless, because I think I actually catch pity in her hard, cold eyes. She pushes past me, and leads me to a bench.

"Kindergarten? I didn't even know you." She sounds almost… touched. I tell her the whole story. Her song, her looks, her everything. The day flashes back to me like it was yesterday.

_I was young, so I wasn't really thinking about falling in love as I filed into the gym. It was more… Play-doh. But that changed when the teacher started speaking._

_ Yup, at first I thought I was in love with Ms. Quil. She was, like, 25 at the time, so it wasn't a five year old and a ninety year old in a ridiculous infatuation. It was a common thing for kids to love teachers back then. Anyways, Ms. Quil asked us all about this song: The Valley Song. I vaguely remembered the tune, and even considered volunteering to sing, but a small, happy girl with two long braids running down her back had beaten me to the punch. Ms. Quil seemed fascinated by the girl as she leaned down, and placed her on top of a stool, so I decided to listen real hard. Just before she began to sing, my father knelt down and whispered to me._

_ "I was in love with that girl's mother, but then she ran off with a coal miner! He's an amazing singer. When he sings, all the birds stop to listen," my father said mystically. I was young, so I gasped in shock, and glanced at the class pet-a tiny, underfed canary that the school had held a huge fundraiser to buy. The rusty piano plinked out a familiar melody, and the girl began to sing. _

_ It was gorgeous. Not like a model, or shiny object, but like the smell of baking cookies, or smoke in the middle of winter. A warm, homey feeling settled over me as her voice rang through the room. I closed my eyes, and smiled. Hesitantly, I cracked an eye open to check on the canary. It was silent. Ms. Quil clapped loudly, and leant down to ask the girl her name. _

_ "Katniss Everdeen," she whispered. And from that moment on, I watched her. I only got more reason to love her. She ended up being model-gorgeous as well, and her loyalty was inspiring. I loved to just watch her interact with Prim. It was breath-taking, in a word. She was breath-taking._

As I finish my story, a familiar little girl sidles up. She has snowy hair, and blue eyes, but I can immediately tell she is related to Katniss by the way her eyes soften. It's Primrose. Katniss gently takes her hand and smiles, forgetting me entirely.

"Katniss," the girl begins softly. "Aren't you hunting today?" Katniss blushes, and looks at the ground guiltily. Wow. Prim has more of an effect on her than anyone.

"I know, sweetie. I'm just, uh… Going now. Can you say hi to… Peeta?," she grudgingly requests. Prim smiles, and turns towards me. I stick out my hand and put on a grin, but she flings her arms around me.

"Hello," she says quietly. "I'm Prim."

"And I'm Peeta. I'm sorry, Prim, I distracted your sister from hunting."

"It's okay. She looked happy with you, so." _Yes! _Katniss looks a mix between furious and embarrassed, both contributing to her tomato-red color. And if things couldn't get any more awkward… You'll never guess who heads over next.

Yup. Fail fucking Hawthorne. The 'fail' was intentional. As in _Gale _is a fail. Katniss inhales sharply as Prim grabs Gale's hand as well, and pulls him over. I'm about to die. Literally. About to die.

"This is Katniss' friend, Peeta," she explains. Katniss is almost ready to protest, and I frown. But then Prim continues. "I think he likes her," she sing-songs. Gale's face is stony, but he tries to smile, for the kid's sake. Katniss looks like she's going to shoot someone, Prim looks like it's heaven on earth, Gale looks more confused than anything, and I'm sitting here like a log.

"Hi, Catnip. What's… Peeta… Here for?" He's careful to lace his question heavily with an underlying meaning, and Katniss blushes. Prim is still oblivious.

"Peeta surprised me," Katniss replies icily. "He surprised me on Friday, too." She's talking about the kiss, and all three of us know it. Gale scrunches up his face, and nods. The tension can't get any higher.

"Wow, Peeta. What were you doing surprising Katniss _both _days? You'd think you'd learn to make plans with her after a while, and only come when she actually _wants _you to be there." And the tension got higher. I open my mouth, but Prim answers for me.

"Well, he thought Katniss would like it, of course!" It's weird how, if she were having the conversation the three of us were _really _having, what she said would still almost make sense. Her enthusiasm sounds out of place, as all of us are speaking robotically at each other.

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure she did," I add cockily. Gale looks like he's about explode. Katniss looks resigned to the torture. "I know _I _enjoyed surprising Katniss. Maybe I'll even try it again, sometime."

"That's impossible," Katniss cuts back in with a clipped tone. "Because now I'm expecting you to surprise me, and I'll deflect it, or ruin your plans. You'll lose the game." Gale now has this cocky little smirk, but it's quickly erased when she continues, "Gale, don't you try to surprise me. Contrary to Peeta's beliefs, I don't. Like. Surprises."

"Yes, but I'm very good at surprises, and it wouldn't be that much of a surprise anyway when I see you every single day," he retorts. I just want to die, at this point. I'll never live this down in my nightmares.

"But, if you did something one day that wasn't… part of the normal routine, I might get scared because it's so irrational." She is practically shaking, but Gale still argues.

"I shouldn't scare you. I'm your _best friend. _Right?" She can't deny it, especially in front of Prim, so she nods tersely.

"Yup."

"Maybe, so it doesn't scare you so much if I try to surprise you, you should just know that I want to surprise you soon," Gale says.

"But, _Gale, _it wouldn't be a surprise if she was supposed to know about it!," Prim wails. Gale turns his body to her, but keeps his eyes on Katniss.

"Exactly, Prim. That's the point. It's normally expected that your best friend would try to surprise you, so Katniss shouldn't be scared if I do. Right?" Prim nods in confusion, but stomps after a moment.

"You guys aren't making _any _sense!," she complains. She crosses her tiny arms and frowns. "I want to know what's going on." Gale and I are engaged in an intense stare off, so Katniss answers.

"It's nothing, Prim. Peeta and Gale are just being silly because _neither of them are going to surprise me. _Now Gale and I are just going to go hunting, and I'll be home in a few hours. Peeta," she nods. She looks at Prim, then back at me apologetically. Then, through clenched, angry teeth-"Would you mind taking Prim home?"

**A/N: Okay, I'm getting apprehensive, and I know what's going to happen! Oh, God. I can't believe I actually did that. Please review, and squeal with me in beautiful harmony. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: SO sorry for the update delay! It's almost the end of the year for my school, so I'm very busy. However, I will be out of school with no homework from Friday-Monday, so expect lots of updates then! This picks up right where we left off… Peeta and Prim walking home. **

It isn't as bad as I thought it would be. Walking with Prim, I mean. I'm actually gaining some valuable information. And a very valuable supporter of my endeavors to win Katniss over. Prim skips ahead of me, and I laugh lightly, informing her to pause for a bit. She twirls around the dusty road, black dirt swirling into her sun-bleached, white hair.

"Are you gonna marry Katniss?" The question takes me by surprise, and I stop for a moment, before regaining my relaxed attitude.

"Do you want me to marry Katniss?," I ask coyly. She furrows her brow, and stays silent for a moment. Uh-oh. That means she doesn't know. Like, she doesn't know if she'll help me or not. And then it won't happen. I smile endearingly, and Prim nods, still a little hesitant.

"I like you. But I don't know you… Gale says _he _wants to marry Katniss. But I really shouldn't know that, because he was just talking to himself and I heard him." She giggle conspiratorially, and grabs my forearm, pulling me in. I laugh, but for a different reason. If Gale meant for his infatuation with Katniss to be a secret, he's doing a shit job of it. Really.

"So… Who should marry her?," I press, leaning forward eagerly. I resist the urge to shake the right answer out of Prim.

"Well, I don't know. Because like, I don't know you, and you live with the Peacekeepers in the _Town_," she frowns. "But you're really nice. And Katniss seems happy when she's with you." Well, then I do not want to see Katniss angry.

"Really? Well, you want Katniss to be happy all the time, right?" I bend over, and look the girl in the eyes. Maybe I'll hypnotize her. Instead, she pushes me away and nods. "So…" I continue. "Maybe you should help me get Katniss to always be happy," I suggest. I'd say it was an innocent idea, but it totally wasn't. "You could be my wingman." Her delighted look fades, and she frowns.

"Wing_girl." _I shake my head.

"Wingman is just an expression. It only means that you'd-"

"I know what it means! I'm not in third grade anymore, duh!," she snaps. I almost burst out in laughter, but resist the temptation. I have to be careful about this. One wrong move could ruin it all. "I might do it…" Hope flares in my heart. "But can I be a butterfly wing, at least?," she bargains. I smile complacently, and ruffle her hair.

"Deal, Officer Butterfly." She giggles.

"If I'm Officer Butterfly, you're Captain… Bread Boy!" Wow. Pretty good name, actually. To Katniss, I am, indeed, the Bread Boy. I reach out my fist, and she bumps it happily. I laugh, and push her in front of me lightly. She leaps down the beaten path, and gallops through a rotting wood fence to an unkept yard. I push back a gasp. This can't be her home. It probably wouldn't have made it against the health society people… Or children society people… Or something. It's just really dirty, okay? Like, disgustingly dirty. I meld my appalled face into a more appropriate mock sob.

"I'm miss you, Officer Butterfly! I don't know what I'll do…" She winks at me cheekily, and dances around in her yard as I lean over the fence. I'm starting to think that Mrs. Everdeen has a creepy, secret hobby of breeding termites.

"You'll wait for me to get Katniss locked up!" She snaps her fingers in a wide Z, and I smile. She sullenly looks at her door, and back at me. Oh no. I cannot go into Katniss' house without Katniss. She'd probably get like, really pissed off. I'd feel like I was invading her personal space, or… or something.

"Well, I'd better get back to the bakery," I start. She nods sadly.

"Can I just bring out Buttercup to show you? He's a cat." My brow furrows doubtfully, but I nod anyways. Squealing, she runs into the shoddy shack, and comes out with the ugliest cat I've ever seen.

Despite the poverty of the Seam, the cat is huge and round, like a pumpkin. It's eyes are glowing orbs that are much too big for the tiny head. An almost-furless tail curls around the front, and I swear I see fleas just jumping for joy when the creature does nothing to groom itself except twitch it's ears. I try to smile, but I think it came out more like a grimace.

"He's cute." She reaches him out for me to pet, and I inwardly cringe. Mother would kill me if she saw me with that thing, or if I brought the insects infesting it's mangy pelt inside. I reach out and timidly stroke him, but Prim sighs in exasperation.

"He's just a cat!," she pouts. She angrily grabs my wrist, and presses my hand against Buttercup's fur. I almost die. A shower will be in order tonight. Hopefully, everyone will ignore the fact that I took one yesterday as well. Showers are usually reserved for once a week. This cat, though, probably saves them for once a century. I smile, and act very impressed.

"It looks like you take such good care of him," I manage. Prim nods eagerly.

"Mmhmm! All by myself! Katniss only tolerates him because I like him. And he catches all the mice by himself." My skin crawls to think of what is creeping into Prim's mouth as she kisses Buttercup's back. Ah, well. Guess I gotta embrace all parts of my winggirl. Besides, even if Katniss just tolerates him, he's still at their house. I'll need to learn to love him when I start coming over more often.

**A/N: Tadah! And we are back! How did you like it? Review! Thank-you! I'll try and write more on Friday. MAYBE I'll push for another chapter tomorrow, just because I've skipped for so long. But ONLY if you review. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for all of the great feedback! Here's the next chapter of More, and I hope you enjoy it… Prim is in this one as well, all of my Prim fans… ;) Btw, I realized I hadn't done this in a while, so… I don't own the Hunger Games franchise. That belongs to Suzanne Collins, the book genius. **

I am pretty cool. Yeah, I said it. I'm awesome! I enlisted my crush's sister's help, and she agreed! All I had to do was pet a cat! Let's see you do that, Fail Hawthorne. Oh, right! You can't! My feet bounce confidently as I stride into the lunch room. Prim and I have got this all worked out… The Hunger Games are drawing to a close, and we have a special schedule today. (All the District 12 are, indeed, dead, if you were curious.) That means that 4th and 8th graders now sit with each other at lunch. Obviously, Prim's going to cozy up to Katniss, and I might just happen to sit there. You might be asking yourself, _What about Gale? _But I got that covered, too. The special schedule means that his grade won't sit with us today. I feel incredibly smart right now. I try to act surprised as Prim waves me over with an innocent look on her face. By Katniss' eye roll, I can infer that Prim's praise of me has been ill met. Not ready to let anything shake me, I stride over.

"Hello, Prim," I jubilantly start. "Katniss." I nod at her. She raises her eyebrows, but says nothing. Just reclines in her chair and stares at the table. "So, how was your guys's day?"

"Great!," Prim chirps. "It's really nice of you to ask. A lot of people wouldn't have done that." I can't help but chuckle under my breath. She's laying it on thick.

"Fine. Nothing special," Katniss says disconnectedly, ignoring her sister for the first time ever. I try to think of the appropriate response, but Prim starts a conversation now.

"So, Peeta, did you like Buttercup?" She widens her eyes at me, as if trying to translate some secret message in one look. I'm confused for a second. Who the hell is Buttercup? The cat! Yes, yes! His name really should have been Batteredcup.

"I loved him! He was so… Cute!," I manage, smiling. Katniss raises her eyebrows at me again, as if to say, _Really? Desperate much? _She's right, of course. I probably look like an idiot right now, but if everything goes as planned, this will all be perfect. "How did you get Buttercup?"

"Oh, Katniss tried to drown him because he bothered her when she was hunting, but I saved him." Katniss puts a finger to her mouth as Prim mentions hunting.

"Lower your voice," she hisses. Prim rolls her eyes, and turns back to me.

"Katniss is just in a bad mood because today's her birthday." I almost spit out my milk, and look at Katniss in surprise. I love birthdays!

"Happy birthday!," I squeal in a girlish voice. She rolls her eyes.

"I don't celebrate my birthday," she icily informs me. "There's not much reason to. I'm another year older. Woohoo!" She makes jazz hands and shakes them around in mock excitement. I laugh loudly, and she glares at me still. None the less, I think I see something in her soften.

"You celebrate my birthday," Prim protests.

"Because you're someone who deserves to have a party," Katniss reasons. "I don't need much, and it's just an excuse for people to beg me for a piece of cake." Prim pouts, and crosses her arms. Katniss mutters, "It's the truth Prim. Besides, we have enough money to get one, small cake. You want it more than I do." Prim nods her agreement reluctantly, and I voice my own question.

"How old are you turning?" Katniss looks at me.

"Fourteen." I smile. I turned fourteen around two weeks ago, but Katniss and I weren't talking much then.

"Do you want anything for your birthday?"

"Even if I did, I wouldn't get it," she shoots back. "I don't take things without doing something for the other person first. I don't like debts." Again with the debts thing! I'm kind of guessing that Katniss would not appreciate it if I offered up a free cake for her.

"I'd try to give it to you," Prim says softly. Her eyes look wistful, like she longs to be able to buy something for Katniss. "I'm sure Peeta would give something to you." There's my winggirl! However, I can't help but suspect that her efforts have just lessened my chances of being with Katniss.

"Peeta shouldn't be giving anything to me," Katniss forcefully tells her sister. Prim just shrugs, and smirks at her.

"Maybe not, but he would. He's just that nice. Aren't you, Peeta?" I look from Katniss to Prim, bewildered. I nod vaguely and put on a smile. Katniss sighs angrily as the rusty ringing of bells cracks through the air.

"Regardless of whether or not Peeta would give me something, he's not getting me anything. Besides, we have to go. Have fun at recess, love." She strokes Prim's head for a minute, and her sister gives her a delicate hug. Prim waves at me, and bounces out the door, leaving us alone. I never thought I'd be so eager to get out of this situation.

"See you in class, Peeta." Apparently Katniss is eager to get out of it, too. _Let her go, let her go, _I tell myself. Yet, somehow, I manage to make myself look like even more of a moron.

"I would give you a birthday cake. If you wanted it." Katniss bites her lip in frustration.

"I appreciate the offer, but I've told you! No!" She stalks past me, and out the door. I turn and watch her leave, sadly. Phase One of mission: epic fail.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Alright, guys. *Sigh.* This is where our story comes to a close… An epilogue is a possibility, but for now, More is finished! Thanks again for all the WONDERFUL support, and remember to check back on my profile for more Hunger Games fics! You're all awesome! You'll be awesomer if you don't sue me for copyright… I don't own The Hunger Games franchise. I apologize if Katniss is a bit OOC. **

It's something I never really thought about, but Katniss was still with Gale when I left her with Prim. I mean, she said they had a 'talk,' but, hey, a lot happened with me and Prim in a short time. And they were together for longer than us. It bothers me as I lie awake at night, trying to get to sleep. Like, really nettles me. It could have completely ruined my chances with her! So, against my better judgement, I find myself in front of her locker, waiting for her to arrive at school. When she does, I can tell she's exhausted. Her shoulders slump when she notices me, and I consider leaving, telling her that I mixed up my friend's locker with hers. But she's not that dumb, and I'm not that fast.

"What are you doing here, Peeta?," she sighs. I hear a defeated note in her voice, and my heart deflates a little bit. I try to stand tall.

"Can I ask you something, Katniss?" She shrugs in response as books cascade out of her locker. With her incredible reflexes, she catches them all, and huffs as she stuffs them in her bag. "Well, when I took Prim home for you… You were with Gale." Way to state the obvious, Peeta. "And, um, I was just wondering… since you seemed so, like, against me, yesterday at lunch, if anything happened between you two?" By now, my cheeks are flaring red, and other people around us are just a blur. Katniss closes her eyes, carefully planning her answer.

"He kissed me," she breathes. I inhale sharply, and she turns to look at me. "I haven't seen him since. He knows more than anyone how I feel about love. He told me he felt the same way, a long time ago. But now… I don't know."

"Well…," I start. "Do you love him?" She shrugs.

"I've lived so long with him being like a brother to me… I don't know if I could let that become something more. It wouldn't feel right. Just a little forced. Too cliche." I nod, hope sparking in my heart. Light shoots through my veins, and transfers itself into a huge grin. "Prim really likes you," she tells me randomly.

"I really like you," I reply. I want to shoot myself in the foot. Could I come up with a more childish answer? I highly doubt it. To my surprise, one corner of her mouth turns up a little bit.

"Maybe one day things will be different, Peeta."

"Maybe one day we'll make them different together." She looks at the ground. "All you need to do is let yourself be happy, Katniss. It doesn't matter what the Capitol will do! You don't even know where dating someone would lead… There's such a thing as breaking up," I beg. She looks me in the eyes.

"Don't you get it, Peeta? It does matter what the Capitol will do! Even if you break up with someone, or you're not meant to 'be with together forever,' and all that shit, they'll take it from you. I'm not going to risk that."

"If you were…," I manage. "Would you risk it with me?" She crumples at the question.

"Probably," she whispers. I move closer to her.

"Then I'll wait for you. Until we're out of the reaping, if you feel that strongly about it. We can be together Katniss. We'll make things right, together. I've loved you my whole life…" She closes her locker.

"You're wasting your time. It's silly. I won't make you happy. Don't make this dramatic. Just leave." I stay planted firmly on the ground, and watch her. On an impulse, I grab her hand.

"Please. Just give it a chance… We get along! Well, when you're not being psychotic, but…" She barks a laugh at that, and turns towards me. She smiles a bit sadly, and pulls her hand out of my grasp.

"You'd never have children. Or a family. Don't lie. I know you want those things." I squirm under her appraising stare, but try to remain strong.

"We could take it by ear. I mean, we're in eighth grade. I think we have some time to plan stuff like that out." She shrugs, and starts to retreat to class. I can hear my heart cracking in half, until she turns around quickly, and whispers just loud enough for me to hear,

"Maybe someday." And in that moment, I know that I have won Katniss Everdeen. It's not the romantic rescue I had planned, and I don't get the prize immediately. But she cares enough to give me hope, and that's not something Katniss just throws out. A smile forms on my face as I lean against the lockers, grinning stupidly at everyone who passes by. I can only hope that I'll have her friendship until we're both out of the Games. Because then, we can really be together. It's just a few years more….

**A/N: Sorry for the sucky last chapter. Review with your reaction to the whole story, and remember that I might be editing this chapter and reposting it. I just had to get this out… :)! Thanks for reading, and reviewing, guys! Millions of invisible mockingjays are being sent to serenade you… Highflyer101**


	11. Surprise!

**A/N: Hello again, dear readers. Since all my readers have always been so loyal to me, I wanted to let you know that I am officially retiring from FanFiction so I can work with more of my own characters. I also wanted to let you know about a story I'm writing on my Wattpad account (apprenticeofathena) so that if you like the stories I've written on here, you can look into it. It's a mystery, by the way, called Politically Incorrect. Here's a summary:**

****_Stella Harvey is America's sweetheart. At least, that's what she's been told. In a tragic accident, Stella lost the past five years of her memory, meaning she doesn't remember her dad's new wife, doesn't recognize her new makeover, and certainly doesn't have the slightest clue that her dad is the President of the United States of America. In an effort to remember, Stella begins to search for clues about the five years she's missing. Clues that lead her to shocking revelations about her past and even more questions. When did Stella become popular? What happened to her life in New York? And, most importantly, was the accident really an accident?_

__**If you're interested, it would mean SO much to me if you could check it out and comment. I posted a link to my Wattpad profile on my wall and would be so honored if you would check it out. Thank-you so much guys! Obviously I've never met any of you be for, but I'm sure gonna miss you now that I'm leaving FF! Mwa, mwa! **


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